


I Expect You'll Betray Me in the End

by thepapercrow



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dutch van der Linde/Molly O'Shea (Implied), F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Instability, Misunderstandings, Pairings but no real romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepapercrow/pseuds/thepapercrow
Summary: Dutch suspects Arthur’s betrayed him. The evidence is stacking up and he can't avoid it any longer, despite his own paternal feelings. When Arthur becomes even more distant and takes to running off with Charles, Dutch can only hope his son will come to his senses before it’s too late.Dutch’s reflection on the events from Shady Bell onward.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	I Expect You'll Betray Me in the End

It started with long trips, deceitful glances, open scorn. He’d raised the boy since he was little more than a child, nourished him, taught him everything he knew. But now it seems like Arthur wants nothing to do with him, preferring to gossip with others and skulk about in the forest for days.

Frankly, it’s become a real problem and Dutch doesn’t have the answer. Micah sees it too, and is all too willing to offer advice of his own. Dutch isn’t sure how else to convince him that Arthur has a good heart, that somewhere deep down past the willful teenage disobedience he never outgrew is a genuine and trustworthy man.

Dutch’s seen it before, dozens of times. Arthur flinging himself in front of others, donating more than he needs to, dragging himself along for days without sleep for the gang. Dutch would never label Arthur as lazy, but there’s been something selfish about the man recently. Ever since they settled down In Shady Bell, things have been different.

Weeks earlier, Dutch had awarded him with a comfortable room but Arthur would slip away in the night, leaving it empty, off doing who knows what while the rest of the camp slept on the ground or the back of a wagon. Micah had asked, multiples times, if he could take over Arthur’s upstairs room since he didn’t even care enough to use it. But Dutch refused, Arthur had always liked his own space and he was holding out his son would get over whatever mood had washed over him.

“Charles, what you think?” Arthur laughs from his position on the log, holding up a very crudely carved animal, Dutch can’t be sure exactly what kind.

Charles graciously receives the thing, looking it over carefully. “Well Arthur, it’s certainly abstract. I like the legs. All five of them.” Arthur all but tackles the man off the log in drunken laughter. Charles just grabs him by the collar like a mother cat and flings him off, also laughing.

“It’s a tail, you fool- it ain’t have five legs,” Arthur says as he continues his ineffective attacks. Arthur looks so happy there, messing around and making a fool of himself. But when he looks at Dutch, it isn’t at him, it’s past him. Arthur doesn’t acknowledge his presence in any way, just continues hounding Charles.

“Son, surely you have something better to do than torment Mr. Smith?” Dutch asks, distaste for the display growing. Arthur isn’t fifteen years old playing around with John anymore, does he still need to act like this?

“Oh Dutch, I’ve already done my work for the day. I’m learnin’ woodcuttin’ now,” Arthur says, finally deigning to fix Dutch with a glance.

“Well don’t be too hung over for tomorrow, I have a job to talk over with you in the morning.” Dutch isn’t sure what that job is yet, but he still has the night to figure it out. He’ll break Arthur out of this slump, he’s done it before.

-

As the days pass Dutch is becoming more and more aware that Arthur isn’t getting any better. What started off as only the occasional disappearance has escalated to distracting other gang members and questioning his decisions in public. Dutch doesn’t ask him for much, doesn’t impose his own values on him, but causing dissent in the gang is crossing a line. If he wants to spend his nights out of camp, so be it, Dutch tells Micah he can use the room when Arthur is out.

But instead of Arthur realizing his presence is missed and changing his ways, he starts an all-out brawl with Micah, smashing his nose in and breaking a finger before Dutch can pull him off.

“What are you doing, you fool?” Dutch yells at him, seething at the blood littering the dirt, at the rage on Arthur’s face.

“This snake was rooting through my stuff Dutch,” Arthur says. Micah is on the ground now, trying to stop the bleeding.

“I told him he could be in there.”

“You what?” Arthur is angry now and for a moment Dutch thinks he’ll finally turn his teeth on him, but Arthur gets ahold of himself again after a few more agonizing moments. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Because you’re always out now. In town maybe? Why should one of the few beds here be unused half the time? Don’t be selfish.” Arthur flinches as if Dutch had struck him.

“In that case, I’ll move my stuff. I ain’t sharin’ a bed with him,” Arthur prepares to leave but Dutch isn’t done with him yet and grabs his arm.

“Stop acting like a child. I’m not asking you to sleep in there with him; I’m just asking for you to share the space. For once.” This time Arthur does walk away.

Micah is certainly thrilled with the development, quickly moving all his belongings into the upstairs room the same afternoon Arthur clears out. Dutch can’t be bothered to find out where Arthur’s sleeping now, he’d been the one to forsake his comfort in his inability to share.

Just like all those years age- Arthur had always been a greedy child. Hoarding food and supplies from the rest of them. Once, Dutch had found one of Arthur’s stashes and been baffled by the boy’s anger when he took one of the dozens of cans of peas. Hosea had butted in to stop Dutch, agreeing that Arthur could keep what he’d taken as long as he asked in the future. Arthur had looked up at the other man like a savior, as if he had been given the world and just nodded. Arthur hadn’t stolen any more food, but carried those same damn cans of peas with him for weeks, months, until some of them were bloated and spoiling, good for nothing but maggots.

-

The job with Lenny and Arthur in San Denis hadn’t gone well and Dutch is suffering for it. His head hurts and Molly O’Shea won’t stop fawning over him. Part of him feels relieved she’s finally falling in line, but the splitting headache makes her voice grating and he finally sends her away. He’s in a weird mood, angry with Bronte’s betrayal, embarrassed for not predicting it. Dutch has played around with some ideas before, drafting scenarios and deciding how he’d react to them. If Susan Grimshaw, for example, betrayed the gang, how would he react- what punishment would be fitting and how strong would he himself be in enacting it? For his family, Dutch leans toward softness, but Bronte’s sentence is hard and final.

When Dutch feels better and his head stops thumping in his skull, he makes his move. A few nights later finds him and a small collection of men sliding through the dark swamp waters. He’s relaxed and at peace, and when he finally feels Bronte’s throat within his clutch, he knows it’s justice.

John doesn’t seem happy about it though, him and Arthur. Perhaps those two are sharing notes now. Arthur had always tried to turn John in the past, whispering to him while hiding things from Hosea and himself. Hosea had just laughed it off, children finding brotherhood in their secrets. Family was no place for secrets though, as Dutch would repeat to Hosea over the years. Dutch figures John may as well be in the man’s pocket, despite all the tension between the two. Maybe even that was an act. After getting cleaned up, both are suspiciously absent from the campfire.

-

“What do you think? I’ve got a lot but I don’t wanna say nothin’ to them till we’ve got a plan,” Arthur’s voice, hushed. Dutch can’t tell who he’s talking to from this angle but he would bet it’s John. But when the other voice answers, it’s too deep.

“Arthur, you don’t need to put everything on your own shoulders you know. We’re in this together,” Charles said. There’s a pause and Dutch leans closer to the edge of the white boards of the manor.

“How do you do it Charles?”

“Do what?”

“How are you always so rational. And good. How the hell is someone like you stuck here in the mud with the rest of us degenerates? With me?” Arthur whispers, and Dutch can hardly make it out.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you’re that bad. And I can’t be that good anyway, trying to steal you away as I am.” Arthur laughs low in his throat, as Dutch’s lungs all but shut down. What is Smith saying? Neither men say anything else, but from the shadows Dutch know they’re both still there, all nestled up against the house together.

The next day when Arthur’s out, again with no word to anyone, Dutch makes his move. First, he raids Arthur’s wagon from floor to ceiling, pulling back the canvas and peeking into ammunition boxes. Next, he hits Charles tent but finds nothing but a few arrows, poultices, and the damn five-legged woodcarving from the other day.

“What are you doing Dutch?” comes Hosea’s voice from behind him. Dutch startles badly but recovers quickly.

“I’m looking for something.”

“In Charles's stuff? You think he took something?”

“No, I’m just being cautious,” Dutch says, mentally debating whether he should mention the odd exchange between Arthur and Charles the day before. Hosea doesn’t look pleased as he walks with Dutch back to the house. He’s always been a pushover where Arthur was concerned. One look from Arthur back in the day was enough to have Hosea bowing to all the boy’s whims. As they talk about the next job, Dutch has a hard time focusing, feeling the Hosea’s judgement while envisioning Arthur whispering to the others.

-

The bank job goes badly and the small party is sent running for the docks, Hosea and Lenny spread out bloody on the concrete behind them. Dutch feels surprisingly calm as Charles offers to stay behind but notices the quick exchange between him and Arthur. The subtle brush of hands and whispers. But then Charles runs off and leads the law off them and when Dutch sees Arthur falling into the roaring sea before him, he’s overcome with a sense of loss.

Men are screaming around him, Micah, Bill, Javier, but the voices wash over him. His son is dead beneath them somewhere, corpse flowing back and forth with the waves for eternity. He’s calm, but it hurts and Dutch wishes he’d had a chance to pull Arthur aside before all this to tell him how much he cares and how much he needs Arthur’s trust, needs his old friend there for him though this. Micah seems to notice his daze and puts an arm out to stabilize him. He says something more, low and apologetic.

When Arthur appears in front of him again, weathered but living Dutch isn’t sure how to respond. But he jumps up all the same and draws the boy back into the fold. The joy is short lived though, Arthur quickly jumping into his doubting and complaining as they travel through the caves, seemingly having more regard for a lying old woman than for either of them.

“Dutch, can I get a word?” Micah asks later, from his seat on the ship.

“Of course Mr. Bell, what do you need?”

“Oh nothing, I just couldn’t help but notice that you and Arthur haven’t been talking since you got Javier out. Did something happen?”

“What? No, not really. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. About John. Gave Arthur a way out, asked him some questions. Let’s just say I didn’t like the answers he gave much...” Dutch trails off and doesn’t answer any more of Micah’s questions, done with the conversation. He’s tired and lonely, thoughts of Hosea clouding his thoughts.

In his readings Dutch had stumbled across an interesting sentiment- that all men were capable of great evil and any could, under the right circumstance or pressure fall to unthinkable acts. Dutch is reminded of Arthur and Charles together, whispering of treachery and thinks that perhaps Arthur should have gone with Hosea, carried off by the sea before he could do any real damage. Dutch would never wish it upon his son, but perhaps that would have been the more humane thing.

-

When they’re all finally reunited, Dutch can’t help but notice Arthur pulling himself towards first Charles and Sadie. Hardly a word to other long-term members of the gang, to the people he should by rights feel the most loyalty towards. Charles gets a hug and Susan just a nod? Sadie warmth and Uncle a blank glance?

In the coming days Dutch spends a lot of time in thought. Milton consumes his mind, thoughts of the slimy creature with his nose to the ground following them to the ends of the earth. They’d never had problems like this before and more and more thoughts of Abigail slipping away in San Denis, John being “arrested,” Charles running away from their little group heading towards the boats. Something doesn’t add up, and when Dutch asks Arthur to go and scope out a new campsite, the man takes none other than Charles Smith with him, not to return for a good day.

“Ride with me?” Arthur had asked.

“Always.”

Dutch thinks about John, apparently in custody. Had he talked before the capture or was he holding out under torture even now? Was the man planning to betray them all along? Or perhaps Abigail had something to do with it. A better life for Jack maybe? Who knows what incentives and promises were fed to her. Dutch can’t be certain though, so for now he just thinks about chess, a more straightforward game where every piece knows its place.

-

The day Susan Grimshaw shoots Molly, Dutch withdraws into his tent and cries. For the first time in years he cries for all he’d lost; his friend, his woman, and his sons. The lies were beginning to stack one onto the other. When Micah asks to come in, he all but yells at him to leave.

“Arthur, can we talk?” Dutch asks one day out of nowhere, he hadn’t planned on it, but seeing Arthur beelining to where Charles was waiting near their horses caused something to snap in him.

“Um. Sure Dutch. Was just going to head out but I can talk,” Arthur said.

“With Charles?”

“Yeah.”

“You two are awfully close.”

“Yeah, he’s strong, good to have at your back.” Arthur looks uncomfortable, eyes averted. Jumbles of accusations tumble to the forefront of Dutch’s mouth but he stops himself, Arthur has always been flighty.

“Let’s go into my tent.”

“Okay,” Arthur says and Dutch notices the look Arthur throws at Charles, exasperated, unhappy. Dutch feels a fool for allowing this man to walk all over him for fifteen years, undermining him with just that simple glance. Dutch settles down on his cot and Arthur elects to balance precariously on a barrel to his right. “What you need Dutch?” What did he need?

“I need you to tell me straight Arthur, what’s going on with you? You go behind my back and pull John out before we were ready, you sneak off with Charles, you badger Micah at every turn. And from the look of you, you must be dabbling with Swanson too.” Arthur looks taken aback, giving him a wounded look.

“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong. I saved my family and am still bringin’ more money than anyone.” Dutch doesn’t know what to say, how to get through to the man in front of him to make him understand.

“That’s all you have to say?” Dutch asks and Arthur just looks back at him in anguish. When the coughing fit starts Dutch herds him out, annoyed by Arthur’s tactics, even now trying to work him. If the man doesn’t want to take the olive branch, that’s fine. The coughing fit seems to magically disappear as Dutch watches the two of them ride away together from his tent.

-

Dutch feels a little better when Cleet and Joe join the gang. He doesn’t talk to them much but they’re mercenaries, trustworthy as long as they get their money. Simple men with simple expectations unlike rest, stalking through the camp with their own motives and secrets.

They stay behind with Micah to hold down the camp when the rest of the camp rides off to the oilfields with Eagle Flies, and when Arthur takes his position aside from Dutch, openly for the first time, Dutch knows it’s finally over. All those years, for nothing.

Arthur is struggling beneath the man, gasping for help and looking into him with those same wide eyes and Dutch knows he can’t indulge this anymore. When he rips away from the scene and stalks towards the door to the factory his eyes are burning and his hands shaking, but he knows he’s made the right call. He tenses up when he sees Charles outside the door, blood crusting his cloths, sure the man will kill him right there in front of everyone.

“Where’s Arthur?” Charles asks, but his face shows he already knows.

“Dead, I saw him go down,” Dutch says. Steadier than he could hope for. Charles just stares back at him and Dutch wants to flee. When Arthur stumbles out, carrying Eagle Flies, Dutch can’t even look at any of them. He heads back to camp and starts to plan their next move, certain that even though Arthur lives, he’ll surely not be back.

When Arthur does return, Dutch is finally sure. Finally, positive in his knowledge that Arthur and John have betrayed him. That’s the only reason Arthur would return, after everything. Dutch thinks back on their first meeting, of Arthur violently resisting him and Hosea’s attempts at help. How he’d snarled at them and even tried to bite Dutch- a little animal that knew nothing but savagery. Dutch had thought to refine him, to show him how to live true, if outside the bonds of the civilized world. But that small child, angry at the world hadn’t changed a bit, is still churning about in the dirt and trying to bring him down. Hosea is lucky in a way, never having to come to terms with it- fading away in ignorance.

-

Arthur may rise from death over and over but John goes down easily enough on the train job. Dutch considers the image in front of him- John on the ground, blood flowing readily. It isn’t a hard decision, easier than in the oil field.

Arthur is enraged when they next meet, but luckily Charles is nowhere in sight. And true to Micah’s warnings, Pinkerton’s follow closely in his wake. The camp bursts into violence and Dutch is pulled in two directions- part of him desperate for freedom, the other half for justice. The shadows, dust, and blood nearly overcome him as they are tear through the woods, even the trees seem to scream out from around them. Between the woods and the press of enemies frenzying all around him Dutch feels like screaming. Finally he’s separated, and in the open air, Dutch is able to breathe. He passes small splatters of blood, bullet debris, and eventually two dead horses- two more victims of this whole farce.

When Dutch finds the two of them, Arthur crawling in the mud and Micah off to the side he’s overcome with tiredness. He eases his boot down onto the gun, stops Arthur from lashing out. Arthur is speaking, words tinged with sorrow as he tries to explain himself, tries to justify his actions. Part of Dutch knows he should put Arthur down, but he can’t. Can only manage to stumble away.

He may have been blind and foolish, but he can’t kill his own son. He loves him, despite all the lies. Can still see the small child, smiling up at him and Hosea- eyes raised to the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Dutch always seemed so self righteous about things so I wanted to try and try writing from his perspective. No happiness allowed here!


End file.
